


quill.

by apostated



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends Being Pals, Friends to Lovers, Gift Giving, How To Be Awkward: by Katya Trevelyan, in which Kat Trevelyan is all of us, no UST here folks, none at all, pals being friends, we've all had those thoughts about one Cullen Stanton Rutherford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:46:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostated/pseuds/apostated
Summary: They had both suffered at the hands of the institution that had failed them both, though neither of them truly knew to what extent their mutual disillusionment and abuse went.  Perhaps that — along with the camaraderie that came with fighting side by side against a common foe — was their only common ground.  So why, on her last excursion to Val Royeaux, had she been so utterly compelled to bring him back something?  To buy him a gift simply for the sake of making him smile?





	quill.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is yet another one of the prompt fills for this 30 challenge a friend and I are doing. Check out our writing on bythexdreadwolf.tumblr.com! Feel free to drop some kudos if you enjoyed; I'm thinking of maybe adding a part 2 from Cullen's POV because?? I love them?????

The small box felt heavy in her hands.She didn’t know why the thought of giving him something so simple felt so momentous.It was a token of her gratitude for all that he had done for the Inquisition, a token of their friendship.Nothing more.So why did it feel as though something _much_ more hung in the balance?They were just _friends._ He was the commander of her forces.A trusted advisor.She was his leader, his healer.There was nothing else, could never be anything _else_.He was a former templar and she a former Circle mage.The chasm between their worlds was as wide as the Amaranthine Sea.That they had bridged it in any capacity, despite their differences of opinion on so many things, was miraculous indeed.

They had both suffered at the hands of the institution that had failed them both, though neither of them truly knew to what extent their mutual disillusionment and abuse went.Perhaps that — along with the camaraderie that came with fighting side by side against a common foe — was their only common ground.So why, on her last excursion to Val Royeaux, had she been so utterly compelled to bring him back something?To buy him a gift simply for the sake of making him smile?

_You do the same thing for your other friends_ , the little voice in her head whispered. 

_True, but none of them make me feel like some stupid, blushing maid out of one of Varric’s serials._

And she did not, for example, fantasize about Dorian ravishing her senseless on top of the war table during advisory meetings.A distraction that had proven, more than once, to be completely and utterly disastrous.Sharing a room with four of the Inquisition’s most astute individuals meant her wandering mind rarely went unnoticed.She highly doubted whether their spymaster believed her when she chalked it up to simply being tired from the road, if her raised eyebrows and knowing smirks were anything to go by.

She ran a hand through her hair, continuing to waffle about outside of the commander’s quarters, debating internally about whether or not she should seriously go through with this.It was just a gift, right? 

_It’s not like he would want you like that anyway,_ another little voice sneered.She had to concede that it had a point; he would never deign to court her in _any_ fashion, so surely there would be no harm in giving him a small gift.Steeling her nerves, she raised a hand and knocked. 

“Enter,” he called out, and she felt a pang in her chest at how utterly exhausted he sounded.This was a mistake; she should have left him in peace.She knew how rare moments of much-needed solitude could be.But she had already disturbed him, and she hesitated but a moment before pushing the door open and stepping inside. 

The office was warm from the glow of the fire and the mid-afternoon sun streaming in through the windows.He did not look up from where he was perusing some missive or other, his brow furrowed in concentration.The ever-present dark circles in under his eyes seemed worse than usual, his cheeks more gaunt, and she wondered if his headaches had gotten worse.He had never told her their cause, though she highly suspected it was stress.The man was, after all, married to his job.It struck her, then, that he had not sent for her healing services in nearly a fortnight.Since before she left for Val Royeaux.It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.The Inquisition was not wanting for talented healers; she wasn’t the only person in their ranks with the skills to help ease his pain.

“I swear to the Maker if you are here yet again about the incident in the barracks, I will not hesitate to assign you latrine duty until the end of days,” he growled, and she couldn’t help but chuckle a little as she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

“Should I be concerned about the fact that you threatened to assign me latrine duty, Commander?” she asked with a grin.

At her voice, his gaze snapped up from his work and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“I bet your pardon, Inquisitor.I mistook you for someone else,” he greeted, rising from his desk.

She waved away his apology.“Don’t worry about it. I feel like _I_ should apologize for disturbing _you_ ; you’re clearly up to your ears in shit — apparently physically as well as metaphorically — but I was hoping — do you have a moment?”

His eyes flicked down at the disorganized array of papers sprawled across his desk for the briefest of moments before alighting on her face again.She steeled herself for the rejection. _Can’t you see he’s busy?You should have just left it outside of his door and buggered off._

“Of course.To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

Her words seemed to get caught on her tongue as he regarded her with that amber gaze, heat spreading up her neck and across her cheeks.She cleared her throat and tried again.

“I ah…on my last trip to Val Royeaux, I got you something,” she finished lamely, looking up at him from in under her lashes.Andraste’s _tits_ , was he even aware of the effect he had on women?She highly doubted it.He was handsome, but he seemed to be completely ignorant of the fact that he was absolutely devastatingly good-looking.She plowed on. _It’s just a small token of friendship.Between friends.That’s all it is.Friends being pals.Pals being friends._ “To say thank you, and to hopefully brighten up your day.You work so hard and do so much…It’s not much, I admit —”

“Katya,” he began, and the use of her first name instead of her title was enough to stop what was promising to be a good ramble on her part in its tracks.He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sigh, a small blush creeping across his cheeks and his ears.Was he _embarrassed?_ Oh, Maker no, she _really_ should not have done this.This was a huge mistake, this was crossing a line.She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off.“That you thought enough of me to do such a thing means more than you know.”

It felt like her entire body was going up in a towering inferno from both his words and _those fucking eyes._ Maker, help her, but those whiskey-colored eyes of his were going to do her in well before Corypheus would.She couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so she simply held the small parcel out to him, and watched as he carefully opened the lidded box. 

Nestled inside was a quill.Nothing exquisite; he was too practical of a man for frivolous stationary.But its nibs _were_ made of metal, and were far more durable than the ones that were standard Inquisition issue.It was a quill made to last.It had cost her a few more sovereigns than she would like to admit. She watched as his fingers gently ghosted over the pen, hovering over the small inkwell and the spare nibs.He swallowed. 

“I cannot accept this,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. 

“Of course you can,” she countered, taking a step into his personal space.Her heart felt as though it were going to hammer its way out of her chest. _Stop that,_ she told it, though she was sure he could hear it in the silence of his office.It was practically so quiet you could hear a pin drop. _Friends do things like this for each other.He’s a friend, you absolute tit._ He looked up from where he’d been marveling at it, his brow furrowed.“You spend almost as much time writing as Josephine and Leliana; you deserve something that’s going to stand up to the task.It’s a _gift_ , Comm—Cullen.Plus, I’m your boss and I say you have to.So.”

“I—thank you.Truly.” 

He was looking at her with such warmth and bewilderment that she was seized with the desire to reach out and cup his cheek, but she managed to reign the impulse in.Barely. 

She swallowed and took a step back in an attempt to ground herself; her legs felt as weak as a newborn colt’s, and it was suddenly incredibly hard to draw a steady breath.

“Well, Commander,” she tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear.“I’m glad you like it.I shall take my leave.” _Before I faint or piss myself, in all honesty.Both are a very likely outcome at present._

As she made her way to the door, he called after her.

“Inqui—Katya?Would you care to join me for a game of chess tomorrow?”

She paused, turning to regard him over her shoulder.  His expression was unreadable but the same warm surprise -- as though he'd never seen anything like her -- was still in his eyes.  The swooping sensation in her stomach seemed to double tenfold.“I—yes, of course.I can’t guarantee that I won’t lose spectacularly, but I would love to.”


End file.
